She
by Noctis Horrorem
Summary: Three years since the war, and all he can do is stand and watch her. (One Shot) Some suggestion of mental illness and domestic violence. Ron Bashing


**AN  
** Just something random that popped into my head. I hope you enjoy it!  
Also, you can now find me on facebook! Just search Noctis Horrorem, and like the page. I will share update schedule for my ongoing stories, random funny memes I find, and just to casually chat!

* * *

It had been three years since the War, and every day he had stood on the same street corner watching her. Some days she didn't come. It was how he realized which day was a weekday or a weekend. Most days she did, and he would watch.

He wished he could find it in himself to approach her, but instead he just stood at the corner, the shadow of the awning hiding his identity as he sucked away on his muggle cigarette.

He didn't understand why she did the things she did. She was a complete enigma to him. She was everything he was raised to despise, yet she held herself with such composure and poise. Her smile, so sweet it broke his heart, always lit her face as she walked past the florist across the street. Some days she would stop and smell them. Yet she never purchased any for herself.

On occasion he would see her with the third one. The least important of the three of them. Those days, her smile never reached her eyes, and instead of smiling she would look with longing at the flowers.

Those days broke his heart. He wanted to see her happy. But who was he really? It was clear he was nothing. No one. A broken shell of a wizard. She would want nothing to do with him. Why would she? She deserved better than him, and she definitely deserved better than that oaf.

But still, every day he stood at his shadowed corner and he watched. He smoked. He let himself slip further and further away from sanity.

He didn't understand why he behaved the way he did when it came to her. He was always taught that she and her kind were worthless. That they would never amount to anything. A smear on the wizarding world.

Yet this woman. She was brilliant! She took life in her stride. Whatever was thrown in her path she faced head on with an intensity he had never witnessed before in his life!

How could he, a no one now, think he could ever deserve to have that beautiful smile turned in his direction? What gave him the right to even dirty her reputation by thinking about her?

So to protect her, he kept his distance. He doubted she would even look at him even if he did approach her.

It was a raining weekday in winter and he was stood at his corner, cigarette held tightly between his fingers as he continued his daily ritual. At precisely 7:32am his obsession turned the corner. She had her head down, and walked past the florist without a second glance. That wasn't like her. She always at least looked at the flowers, she always smiled as their fragrance wrapped around her.

The next day was the same and the day after that.

He never saw the third one with her again. Something must have happened. He would stay though. He would not approach her, but he would not stop watching for her.

Months went by. He watching, she walking past the flowers without a thought. If anything she seemed worse. She was drawn, she was losing weight. Her usual bush of hair hung limply down her back.

It was growing to be more than he could stand.

Two days had passed without seeing her. That was normal. It must be a weekend.

The third day came and went without a glimpse of her either.

Then the fourth day.

He was worried now. He felt his heart hammering in his chest. He felt like he was going to break.

He had to see her. Make sure she was safe.

He might not be much of a wizard anymore. Not after the War. But he still felt. He still cared.

She was his addiction, he had gone four days without his drug.

On the fifth day when he still hadn't seen her he decided to do something drastic.

He finished his cigarette and stomped it out on the ground. Crossing the street he walked right into the florist he knew she loved. Pulling out a wad of muggle money he dumped it on the register.

"I want to purchase it all." He said, his voice cracking from lack of use and abuse of the muggle cigarettes.

The woman behind the counter seemed stunned. It was obvious no one had ever done such a thing. Muggles were truly strange.

He arranged for it all to be delivered to her apartment. He just wanted to see her smile again.

Of course he knew where she lived. He knew everything about her. If it was on public record, he knew it.

He took the most beautiful bunch of flowers he could see from the florist and near ran to her apartment. It wasn't far.

He took the stairs two at a time so as to get to his addiction faster.

He was nearly there. So close.

He saw her apartment number. He heard shouting. He heard crying. He heard a crash.

He drew his wand and blasted the door down. She was in a ball on the ground, cowering, covering her head.

The third one. That _Weasel_ was stood over her! How could he even contemplate hurting such as she?

" _Expelliarmus_!" He shouted, his wand pointed at the clearly drunk, violent man in front of him.

She stood shaking as the man flew across the room, crashing into the wall with the force of his spell.

"Draco? Draco Malfoy? Wha-what are you doing here?" Her voice trembled. Her whole body trembled. It was clear the Weasel had been abusing her. There were bruises across her face and arms, and he knew under flannel sleepwear there would be more.

"I-" His voice was stuck in his throat. Instead he held out the flowers to her. Instantly the look on her face changed. It morphed into her smile. _That_ smile. The one he was addicted to. The one he had been craving for so many days. He felt his heart melt.

"I… I've had the rest of the stock delivered here. I… that is… I really hope you don't mind." His voice was weak. He was weak. If only his father could see him now.

Hermione didn't reply. Instead he lowered her face to the bunch of flowers in her hands.

"Peonies. My favorite. How did you know?" Her voice was soft. Beautiful. She was beautiful.

He shrugged. He didn't have any more words to say. He didn't know the words to say or how to react if she sent him away now.

"This is the nicest thing anyone has done for me. Thank you Draco." She whispered.

She walked towards him, an angel, the light behind her shimmering around her head like a halo.

She wrapped her arms around him, nestling her head on his shoulder. With that he melted.

"I love you Hermione."


End file.
